The Unit: Home Rule
by roomtable202
Summary: Mack Gerhardt and Charles Grey to their own devices. Last chapter posted. "Carpe Diem. Memento mori. Enjoy the day. Remember you'll die", Charles silently worded to himself. "Eat, drink and be merry."
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 1

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

Mack thrown an apparently friendly arm over Grey's shoulders as soon as he caught his pace in the corridor, but soon enough the pressure he exerted told Grey that it was more to it.

"I know what you did", Mack said to Grey when he was sure the two of them were alone and in a safe spot were they could not be taped or heard by the compound's security net.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You must be crazy. I know you are not on drugs because we passed the test together, so you must be crazy. You need a hug, man? Come on, let me love you! Or shall we be going after some forbidden path? I'll go with you. But you never ever do that again." Mack's voice sounded menacing enough so as no to pay attention to that sign of alert and pretend the issue was not an important one.

Grey didn't say a word but kept staring at him intently.

"I know pretty well how it works in here. If you don't do it for yourself, do it for the team, 'cause you'll take us all down with you... and our families."

Grey patted down the wall next to him twice. It was an involuntary tic Mack had spotted on him on other occasions, a sign of positive tension when getting ready to wait for the "go-go-go" order in any intervention; all the muscles ready to spring out but all the control focused in preventing that to happen any second before the order was given. All of them had their little mannerisms, so Mack knew he had green light and he could go straight to the point now that Grey had made up his mind on the subject.

"What were you doing in there? Ryan said you were not fit yet to go with us to Turkey."

"Playing Manuel, waiting tables for a month; mixing with the locals, gathering information. He saw me there."

"How could he remember you, if you were playing Manuel? You're supposed to pass unattended."

"We had a couple of fights."

"But why?! What for?"

"For money."

"I don't get it. For money because he owed you money?"

"We participated in off-circuit fights. I needed the money and it seemed a good idea at the time. I overhead he was organizing it and he needed new meat for his circus. I passed the test, had the fights for as much as I needed and that was it."

"What could you need the money possibly for? You were on a mission for Christ sake!"

"I received this letter from the insurance company. It seems the Army has our medical services outsourced. They were billing me for all the expenses of my evac from Cyprus and med care there and here, plus all the rehab sessions. I was not covered. As it said very politely in the letter, I was not on duty for the Army at the time. It was huge, Mack. It was a bitch."

"It can't be."

"Hell, they even included the detail of the painkillers I'd got, blood tests with the name of the lab on them and all; a water jar I broke, several meals I couldn't have possibly eat... Lucky me I signed myself out of the hospital two days after being transferred to the base and Annie and Molly helped me get over the worst of it at the apartment or, man, I swear I ..."

"Why didn't you tell Ryan? Or any of us? We could have asked John to get it from the Units's B funds? It's sickening! You don't have to pay for that!"

"On what basis? As a prize for getting myself shot and Hector- ...?"

"Stop it."

"I almost got us all killed."

"I said stop it."

"You were the only one back there who dared to tell the truth. You should have left in time."

"Well, we didn't. What's the point in bringing it up now? Besides, there is something I know for sure: if I had been in your place, you would have done what we did and the final result would have been exactly what it was... and you know it too. What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. I said it for you."

"Because that's the job, kid, even if you manage to skip it this time, there is gonna be something else down the road."

"Yeah... There ain't no happy ending. And all that much you have to look forward if you survive..."

"Dude, you all right?"

"I'm always all right."

"Even when you're not, like the rest of us. You look like crap, man."

"I try to concentrate but... "

"She is back?"

"No."

"She is back in your mind, then? She is back in your mind... "

"I'm not sure she ever left. But I do know one thing: she is getting in too deep into my head. I need to kill this ghost."

"No need to kill it, you vanquish it."

"It's wearing me down. It's breaking me. What am I supposed to do?"

"I'm no one to give advice, but just the truth: you are a wolf; and a wolf makes only a good pet if it thinks it is a dog. To beat you, one has to destroy your will to fight. Don't let her get you down like this. You've got over so much to be here..."

"This is new for me, Mack, and I don't know if I'm strong enough. I never felt so confused in my life and it's getting worse."

"So you try to forget, and when you can't forget, you fake that you don't care..." Mack voice was hoarse and he avoided Charles's eyes. His face was bleak, whiter than his usual characteristic white.

Talking about Annie reminded Charles how she will welcome him without words, just her fresh looks and a big smile in her lips and her eyes, snaking herself around him... hard, like she wanted to fuse in one, and only then she would kiss him like the first time; he loved her cuddling like nothing else, it melted his very heart, he wanted no more but her. And it was when it occurred to him how many more, so much more, memories would have Mack to relive after all his years of marriage with Tiffy. Charles crossed his arms and shifted his position uncomfortably when Mack addressed him again.

"Dude, I was here a year ago, and I was here six months after that, and you were not as happy as before. And now you are not even as happy as six months before. You're not going in the right direction. That's all I am saying."

Charles tightened his crossed arms some more, his eyebrows furled, slightly biting his lower lip when Mack followed.

"I know you like free diving, and you were enjoying life kind of, in the edge, on your own all the time."

"No, you are never in the edge if you know your limits."

"Oh, yeah? I don't think so. I take it the point of free diving is pushing past the limits. That's why most professional free divers get their eardrums burst. Afterwards, never again they can free dive to their previous marks. It's the end of all they want to do."

Now Charles looked directly into his eyes. His attention finally focused.

"Are you saying I'm way out of my depths?"

"Not yet, but you will be if you don't do something about it soon. I'm not the most perceptive of persons and I've realized you're not as sharp as you should; it means there is no more time left for you taking an upward turn."

Nobody knew better than himself that he was in a low; way low.

"I've seen how the Army deals with these things before. One day you are in, next hour, you won't even be given time to pick up your dog tags, you'll find yourself down the gutter. There will be nothing to do then. And there will be no warning. Keep it in mind. Change now... or fake a change now. No second opportunities from Ryan when you cannot do your job."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"If we were going on deployment soon, all would be different. You'd have time and space to make it right for you again but here you are too much exposed. So, get to surface that wolf look, for a start. No puppies allowed around."

"Ok, ok, ok..."

"Now, change into your superhero gear. We will go running for a couple of hours and then a shave, a shower, some beers and a double hamburger with triple of fries at Jake's. What do you say?"

"I'll love it."

"That's in the spirit of things." Mack send a friendly punch to Grey's arm which he returned while nodding his head down in acknowledgment.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 2

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

Mack finished cleaning up the pots and pans after preparing dinner and was just thinking he'd have to wake Grey, when he poked his nose out of his dorm. Rumpled and still groggy from sleep, he made his way to the kitchen and sat heavily on the counter.

Even though not like his own house, Mack found the apartment familiar and comfortable. He had been there quite a few times working on details of plans or just simply sharing a game and a few beers with Hector and Grey. He was glad Grey and himself were in time to rent it back again for just a little bit more a month and not having to move to some strange place not so close to his girls.

Grey looked around him and sniffed at the aroma, suddenly awake and very hungry and Mack served him a full bowl.

The moment Grey stared at the bright solid red of the tomato soup felt his stomach tightening, making him nauseous. Silent, Grey looked directly at Mack. Mack had obviously worked hard on the meal and it smelled good but he couldn't go through it. Grey's face got very pale and Mack moved towards him.

"What's the matter? Feeling queasy? You have not eaten much since yesterday, you need food."

Grey could feel beads of sweat form on his face. His heart pounded in his chest and the nausea grew more intense. Suddenly, Mack understood. He took the bowl away from Grey, who hung his head and took a deep breath.

"I just can't right now, sorry. Later. I-"

"It's OK. You know what I was thinking while cooking? Some years ago, I was coming back from a mission, a real bitch and I made this mistake. I didn't stop enough at the base to settle down a bit and went straight home. I was really wracked after all I had seen, all sagged... The very moment I crossed the door, I realized I shouldn't be there and stopped dead at the threshold... and, you know, Lissy, who must have been 8 at the time, came by me and took my hand and said _It's all right, dad_, and she took me in. My two little pumpkins are most extraordinary." Mack's corner of the eyes wrinkled in a way that softened his features in the most tender of manners, one Grey had never seen before on him, not even in one of the many anniversaries he had shared with Mack and his family at their home.

"How could such a cute little thing like her understand so well that's what I needed? Simple comfort, not questions I couldn't answer. (...) Dude, mother and daughter are like night and day. Tiffy has never had this empathy with me and I remember we had it with her once again that night, a huge "welcome home" brawl." Mack's look took a somber shade that told Grey to try and prevent him to dig further on, he changed subject instead.

"Hey, if you are done here, let's go and fetch the girls. Didn't you want to take them for a walk before coming back for dinner?" Mack seemed relieved too on the change of subject.

"Eat at least a quick sandwich before leaving. All the same, Tiffy won't be back home with Lissy and Jen till five. They went to the mall and most surely she would do anything to be delayed just to piss me off. Would you rather have a cheese sandwich? I was about to make one for myself. Some coffee at the side?"

"Yeah, great. Why so late? Why do we pick up Jen and Lissy at five?" Grey asked while rummaging inside the small cabinet of their shared bathroom.

"That's Tiffy. She has them with her the whole week but precisely today of all days she had to take the girls shopping. We would just have time to get back and get ready for dinner. That's why I'd rather leave it all set at the fridge, so I have just to heat it on and could pass some more time talking to the girls."

"At what time do you want me to be back to the apartment to take them home together?"

"Is 10 pm OK with you?"

"Sure! I'll be here."

"But you can stay and have dinner with us if you feel like it; I might make you a rolled omelet... And, that's the second and last of my cooking abilities and my last offer, don't ask for more."

"Dude, we've learned more difficult things than cooking. And if we've to learn petit point, will do it too. Don't worry, we'll manage and the girls will be as comfortably here as they can get." Grey came back to the counter with a couple of pills that he took with the mug of coffee Mack had served him.

"It's not about cooking. It's about cooking that tastes home; actually that tastes Tiffy's cooking. I don't want my girls having to make an effort to hide they dislike something when they are passing time with me. I want them to be at home here too. So, stay with us. Hey... Are your wounds giving you a hard time again?"

"Just about. Every here and there, not very often, but this weather is not helping."

"Maybe you've got adherences in the internal scars. It happens. You could try some rehab massaging to loose them up if that's the problem. Let me see."

"No. Don't worry."

"Let me see. You can't do it properly yourself."

"Don't play dad with me, Mack. I can carry my own weight." Mack backed off nonplussed. "Dude, don't put that face to me! It's not what you think... I cracked two of my ribs less than three weeks ago in Canada, so it will hurt for a while. Look, I'll take care of the sandwiches. Sit down and relax."

"In Canada? With Bob? Why didn't you say?" Mack crashed on the sofa.

"It's nothing... I can go on. They are not broken. I just have to be a little bit more careful with the training than today. Want some onions and mustard in yours?"

"What?! No! So, are you coming hunting with me and Jonas tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I would like to find a nice spot to go camping with the girls next weekend."

"Great idea. That might be fun! There... Beer or coffee with your sandwich?"

"Coffee. You know, Jen is taking music lessons and Lissy horse riding lessons, and it's OK but I would like both of them more attached to nature, to the beauty of being on the wild, on your own. They live in the middle of a world made of concrete and iron, all hard and menacing, with so many ways to hurt yourself. If you think about it, it's like they pass their lives going from one closed space to another... enclosed at home, at the school, in church, at the mall... All big bright boxes, but boxes. Lissy and Jen's longest horizon most of the 24 hours of a day is about 6 or 10 yards max before finding a wall in front their eyes. I would like to take them out more.

"And don't forget the best: it's all for free, even food." Grey winked one eye and Mack winked back looking haggard.

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"We are no beggars! It happens we're training for our next survival test, you know. We will get over those three months advance rent by the end of next month and we could start saving some."

"Maybe you could. Honestly, with the divorce, I don't know how to make ends meet. When Lissy was coming and Tiffy and I married, we didn't have money even for a silver wedding ring. Boy we were living on thin air then, but it was never an issue. Those were wonderful times. I was waiting to be called to the Rangers and doing the odd repair here and there, Tiffy was working at a cafeteria and would bring home all sort of pieces of cake for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner."

"Yo! Dude! Get up and let's go to the mall and pick up the girls before we have Dolly Parton knocking at our door to sing a duo with you. We will win an extra hour for you and the girls. We can eat those in the car."

Mack threw one of cushions directly to Grey's head. "You have no respect for old age!"

"Dolly's or yours?" Charles returned the cushion back to him. "Need help to get up old man?"

"Aren't you tired of being our chaperon?"

"Nope!"

"You will."

"Not for as long as you need it."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 3

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

No good deed goes unpunished. The camping idea with Mack's girls was to be all fun and laughter just until it wasn't, more or less at minute 90 after setting the camp, when Lissy and Jen realized there was no bathroom, just a spade and all the space around, or that it was not a good idea go camping with just sandals on their feet. But all definitively went havoc when Mack left the girls seating by the near little stream of water with bored faces to look for some wood and Charlie was checking his rabbit trap. Both heard their anguished cries and from their slightly higher position saw both girls running away in fear from what seemed a dog, each one in one direction, disappearing in the thickest part of that little wood. Mack was closest to Lissy's direction and took after her and Charlie went after Jen. It took him more than 2 long minutes looking around to picture Jen might had fallen from a little slope down deep into a huge blackberries bush, where he found her, so shocked that she didn't even answer to him calling her name.

When Charlie approached Jen and crouched down, she pressed herself into a ball. Charlie could see where a sharp piece of wood was cutting into Jen's forehead, a small trickle of blood running down the little girl's face, but the way he saw her moving, nothing was broken.

"Jen, hey, you are fine, don't be scared. It's OK. You're just stuck in these thorn bushes. Stay still, I'll get you out." Charlie said, speaking in a soft sing-song while he took off his knife.

"It hurts,.. it hurts..." Jen whimpered at last. Charlie reached out to the girl with the knife in his hand, and the girl jerked back.

"It's okay, I know a knife is scary but I won't hurt you." Charlie could see tears running down Jen's cheek. "Don't look at the knife, look at me. I need it to cut a way out, but I'll be very careful. I won't cut you, I promise. I'm going to take you out from here very quickly. Don't be scared. You are OK. I am here with you. You won't fall down again. You are secure here. Just stay still."

"Uncle Charlie, you've got blood in your hands..."

"Ah, you're sweet! You worry about me now? It's nothing. There we go. Now, just stretch out your arms and legs, keep your head down. That's it. You are doing great... Stop now, I'll do as I was giving you a big hug and will take you out, OK?"

Charles introduced himself into the thick blackberry bush protecting with his body that of the little girl from the thorns and then he took his shirt up past his head and passed it over Jen's head and arms.

"Hey, you're brave...! Some of the thorns might sting a bit but it's nothing, it will be a moment... There we go... I've got you... Get your legs around my waist now... I've got you... I've got you..."

"Aw, aw... Aw... It hurts, it hurts..." Jen moaned from the inside of Charlie's shirt.

"No more, see? We are done now, see? We are out. And, you know what? I think I'm gonna ask you to get me back my shirt." Charles uncovered Jen with a big "Boo!" and gave her a huge smile that Jen returned, tears still streaking her face. Then she touched her forehead and saw with horrified eyes blood on her fingers and started crying again.

"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. Hey! It's just a tiny, tiny little scratch... Let me see." He swiftly took the splinter out and laid his cheek on top of Jen's head, gently rocking her sobbing for a moment while compressing the little hole the splinter had left.

"Come on. Let's go look for your dad and Lissy, hey?" Charles slipped an arm under Jen's knees and stood. She was feather-light in his arms and he carried her uphill without effort. "Better now?"

"Uncle Charles, why do you have two belly buttons?"

"Me? Oh... That. It's- ...It's not a belly button, but it could be though, born two times."

"Really? You were born two times?"

"No, no... Sorry, I said a silly thing. No, I injured myself sometime ago. It's just a scar."

"Did it hurt you?"

"Yes..."

"Does it hurt you now?"

"Sometimes. When I think about it." Jen passed his little arms around his neck and kissed him in the cheek.

"Mommy always does when I hurt and I feel better." Charles was surprised at his own reaction when he found himself deeply moved by her infantile show of affection and could hardly find his voice to answer her. "Will I have a scar too now?"

"You are an angel. Angels don't have scars. We will take care of cleaning your little scratch between the two of us, OK? We will get the med kit and we will clean it up well and put a band aid to it."

"I want a Cinderella one!"

"Wow! I don't think I have one of those but I can draw a camel and a palm tree over the ones I have. Nobody else will have one like yours. Will that do?"

"A camel! Yes! That's cute!"

"I know how to draw a big black spider too."

"A camel! I want a camel! Spiders are ugly."

"What's wrong with spiders? I like spiders." As he walked, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket with a slightly trembling hand to let Mack know they were coming back unharmed. He couldn't help but feel somehow shaken about the potential very bad outcomes of the situation that he had been considering when looking for the little girl.

"Mack?" Mack answered on the first ring. "I found Jen. She is OK. Just some scratches. She had been very brave, you know?" Charles put a funny face to Jen and made her laugh for Mack's sake so he could hear by himself she was well. "Will be there in a little while. Is Lissy OK?" (...) And then he whispered, "Tiffy is gonna kill us tomorrow, mate, you know that," before closing the cell phone.

"Uncle Charles..."

"What?"

"Will that big black dog come back?"

"Not to worry. When it saw you and Lissy running it didn't go after you, see?. It was looking for food."

"Sure it will come back to eat us all then!!" Jen voice raised in alarm. "We should go back home quick!!" Jen cried.

"No, no, no... Hey, no... Don't cry,... No... Dogs don't eat people."

"Yes they do!! Terry at school was bitten by his neighbor's dog and had to go to hospital! And then they had to give her a shot that hurt much and... and..." Jen cried out in hiccups with tears of fear in her eyes. Grey held her tightly, without knowing what else to do to quiet her sobbing.

"I'll tell you what, your little head thinks too much too fast. Let's do something nice while we walk back. Let's pick up some flowers for Lissy. Look! Look at those wonderful white ones! You can't find those in town... Just here. Would you help me get some?" Her tense body began to relax, her breathing slowed and Charlie put her down on the ground. The very moment Jen took him by the hand, he realized that no way Mack's girls would ever be close to the likes of Elisabeth Blaine for as much Mack could try in the years to come.

"Look at those blue ones too, Uncle Charles! Aren't they beautiful?"

No way either he could get the rabbit he had caught for dinner with the girls around. The idea of being seen for the rest of his life as the monster that killed a pet bunny in the eyes of those little girls was much more than he could bore. So, he portrayed himself leaving the rabbit free from his trap and doing some 30 miles by that bumpy road to the nearest fast food to get four hamburgers with some little figures of Barbie in two of the menus boxes to top the Call of the Wild Experience Tour for the Gerhardt's girls.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Home Rule - Chapter 4**

**Author: **roomtable202

**Fandom:** The Unit

**Disclaimer:** This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

Mack heard the fire door of the hotel hallway opening while he was seating on the table, head down, a small med kit close by but not very apparent, and he composed himself quickly. He didn't want to be surprised with his face telling flatly of his concern about Grey, because he knew Grey was a man who despised anything with the faintest shade of pity or compassion for his person. But he couldn't help feeling that hunch he had since Grey left their hotel room five hours ago.

He heard his uneven steps up the corridor, approaching the room, and thought that, if he could walk, he was in more or less one piece. He heard how Grey stopped and imagined how he was trying to pull himself together before going in.

"I like the way you smile when I enter a room" Grey quipped at him while shutting off the lights. "Wanna have a quick peek at the street? I am pretty sure no one followed me, but..."

"You OK?"

"Yeah, I'm OK. That guy was a damn bull elephant though, more like Mighty Mo. No way he was on the weight-class they told me. There. You take care of the money and changing the flight arrangements for tomorrow, just in case. No, no. Don't turn the lights on. I'm going to lie down for a while. Wake me up when we have to leave."

"Don't you want me to---"

"Hey. I said it's OK."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Grey moved to reach down to his shoes, but barely got his arms raised before they fell back to his sides. "Man, I'm tired like a dog!"

Mack reached down to Grey's feet, gently pulled off his shoes and helped him to rest over the bed, his own arms trembling with Grey's shivering with exhaustion, and then undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. "You tell anyone about this and I'll skin you alive," he whispered to the dozing off form of Grey. He stood up, covered Carlito's limp form with one of the extra blankets on the closet and went over to the twin bed, pulled off his own shoes and grabbed the remote from the side table, decided to keep an eye on him for the rest of the night.

Grey opened his eyes. He glared through the dark room at Mack's bleary-eyed face and smiled at him.

"Mack, don't worry. Nothing is broken, I can tell as much. I am dead tired, that's all... and had the bright idea to walk the last k to make sure I had no one on the tail. Just need some rest now," came Grey's rasping voice. "The rest will take care of itself, trust me. Rest some you too. I'm good," he finally mumbled, trying not to think on his increasingly throbbing side.

Mack glared back. In truth, Grey had to be in a great deal of pain and not a very good shape either, Mack knew all too well. He got up for a couple of Tylenols and a glass of water and took them to Grey.

"You did your part. Let me do mine. Take these at least. About tomorrow, it might be an idea to cut your hair off to finish this. It will change your looks a great deal." Grey didn't protest further. "Go to sleep now. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours to make sure you still have all your wits with you."

"Deal." Grey said quietly, hiding his own discomfort.

Mack thought on a couple of weeks ago, back in Fort Griffith. Grey and himself working on a junk car with a salvageable motor that Grey had bought for almost nothing.

_"What's bugging you, man? It's got to be worth something, right? We can make some money back while having fun."_

_"Dude, divorcing is a cruel game. It's like playing poker. Winner takes it all. I asked her not to, that we should try again, but there is nothing I can do now. An empty house and an extremely angry ex-wife, that's what I've got out of the deal... Damn lawyers! As a family, we are in such deep shit right now... The girls don't deserve this."_

_"You know what's mine is yours if I can help__..."_

_Grey knew better than to push Mack into talking but he saw the time and space was right to try it his own way, to say what he had to say. He went back behind the open trunk of the car._

_"Mack... Díaz called yesterday. He proposed me another fight next week. We've plenty of time till we deploy for Cobra Blue. We could ask for a few free days to perfection our Spanish and make it in time."_

_"What!? Knock it down!" Mack went behind the trunk to face Charles. "Why did you call Díaz? Because it was you who made the call. How could you be that stupid again. Damnit! Answer me!"_

_"So what if I did? Tell me why not! Think about it. We do quite a good deal of playing with fire for people we don't know. Why not for the girls? It only concerns both of us. Nobody else has to know." And the sudden outburst of muffled screaming between the two subsided to the grave husky tone of Mack's authority._

_"I still have to do a check with the guy in the mirror every morning. It doesn't feel right."_

_"Like you said once to me: Right for who? It's an emergency situation. Now that the divorce is final, and with the conditions her lawyer got, If Tiffy doesn't get that house out the base next month you risk it she might take the girls away to Texas, with her parents."_

_Mack sighed and broke eye contact, his gaze quickly darting away. _

_"To be honest with you, I don't know what's best. In Texas her parents will help, here it's killing me she should be working at the Capri for a living." _

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Home Rule -** Chapter 5

**Author: **roomtable202

**Fandom:** The Unit

**Disclaimer:** This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

"Grey...", Mack whispered urgently. Grey was fully awake immediately.

"What's up?"

Mack crossed to the wall and positioned himself at the right side of the door and signalled him to get ready too. "We should go, now", he whispered. "Someone is fumbling around in the first room we booked at your name."

"Shit! Have you checked that the video is recording?"

"What do you think? Get up. We should disappear while they are at it or we risk to get stuck in here the whole day. Come on."

"Kid... I need some help here. I'm stiff like a plastic doll." Eyes on the door, Mack helped Grey into his shoes, laces and all. Grey gave him five just before that, with a swift quick move, Mack almost peeled him off from the bed and helped him leaning against his shoulders. By the time they took to the fire escape stairs, Grey had warmed up enough and was functioning on his own. They went out and down the steps towards the street, with Grey stumbling here and there against the wall. Mack's phone buzzed. He picked it up quickly. He listened, face grave, then said, "Wilco, sir", and hanged down.

"Trouble?"

"That was Ryan. It seems I've to report for duty in seven hours."

"Not me?"

"Just me."

"What now?"

"Now? You pick up the camera and the other stuff this evening on your own. Get back and hole up somewhere near Fort Griffith and rest some until you are due to report for duty." Mack grumbled, not feeling comfortable leaving Grey behind. "Whatever you find on those tapes, keep your head down in TOC till I come back from wherever Ryan is sending me this time."

"Mack I don't think-"

"Just do it. For me. Trust me on this one. If I'm not mistaken, there might be some trouble."

"OK."

"Show me your hands." Grey's face looked far worse than he expected, all swollen, both eyes black because of his broken nose and he wanted to make sure that at least he could use his hands.

"Flex your fingers. Good. Before taking the plane back home tonight, don't forget to cut your hair and get rid of those fake tattoos; they were meant for a month, so you'll have to do some hard scrubbing there. Uh, and wear your sunglasses at all times. You look uglier than your usual ugly."

Both took separate ways while hitting on the street. Grey hoped that he was able to keep his pace up. At the moment, every movement he made sent shocks to every part of his body. The pain was increasing by the minute. Just like he had some kind of mental link to Grey's thoughts, Mack was calling his phone almost immediately.

"You're pretty chewed up. Sure you'll be OK?"

"I can breathe on my own, don't need you to do it for me." Mack, closely following behind Grey but at a safe distance, looked up into the dark sky, then look forward to his mate, who was lightly lit by the rising sun above, walking like an old man and talking like a teenager.

"Chill out. Dammit."

The two started to make their way back, rounding their way around the corner to the two cars they had previously hired.

"Are we leaving now?"

"Yup. We better start moving." And hung up the call. Mack broke all basic rules and turned over to look at Grey at the other side of the street.

He mentally cringed as he took in the sight of his hunched figure. He was too pale to be doing good and he didn't miss the grimace of pain that flashed across Charles's face, or his attempt of suppressing the groan that was just beginning to slip from his lips the moment they closed their cell phones. Seeing that made Mack feel a little guilty, but only a little. Grey stood by for him and his girls and took the heat this time and ultimately he would be the one to unleash a whole seek and find chain for a TOC's suspected leak of information. Truth be told, Mack had this gut wrenching feeling that TOC info on operatives was not as tight and protected as it should be from long, but it had been just perfect that doing an independent test could justify as well Grey's two visits to the illegal fight rings in Tijuana.

In another order of things, as his previous personal instructor in the Unit during his training, he was worried because Charles was hiding secrets from him. Again. One of the first things he strived to teach him all that time was that when someone had a problem, especially a physical one, that could mean a liability on a mission and you tell someone. You don't hide it. But he thought on how many times did they have to go over this with Grey and still they weren't enough. Some lessons are never learnt. Not for someone as proud as Grey.

As for Grey, he slowly dragged behind his car and looked up towards the hotel building in front of him and then sighed painfully. It was about to be a long way back home for him this time. For a start, he wasn't comfortable doing an internal double check, if it wasn't because he trusted Mack's instincts blindly. Secondly, Grey being the "usual suspect" around the TOC wouldn't help forward Mack's plan. He never dared to put this fact in black and white for Mack as he knew that for "Mack the Ranger" it was unacceptable that Grey could be seen differently by the rest of the men of the Unit other than his own understanding of him.

He rode along in the car most of the day, just wandering around, stopping only for the odd cup of coffee and some piece of cake.

In the evening, as planned, he went back to the hotel. Picked up the two tiny cameras installed in the room where he was expected to pass the night after the fight, the ones that should tell them something about who was interested in following Grey's footsteps down to Mexico, making sure he was on his own, no other counter-equipment installed either. Then he got the rest of the equipment out of the second room, where Mack and himself stayed, left it all ready and assembled inside a duffel at the roof and went to reception for the formal check out of the hotel.

When it was done, he exited by the main hall and came back in again by the staff entrance at the rear, avoiding all security cameras, broke into the first executive room vacant when someone left for dinner, shaved his hair, got rid of the painted tattoos, changed cloths with one of the clean shirts he found there, erased any marks of having used the room, got rid of his old shirt, and headed for the parking for one last check up before retrieving the duffel on the hotel roof and heading for the airport.

He cruised through the parking lot just as a stream of cars was pulling out. He didn't feel any tail, either going in or coming out, but to make sure he had no trackers he drove into a cul-de-sac in the neighbourhood. Should he be followed, they were burned and he would know what they looked like. What came as a surprise was that the ones who followed him into that cul-de-sac were more interested in him than in knowing where he was going and this error of judgement cost him dearly.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 6

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

The door was pushed in gently and Mack walked into the dark hospital room at a loss of what or who he will encounter there, as it was with the last three rooms he checked. A soft snore turned his attention to the farthest bed in the room, but he promptly realised the small frame of Grey tucked under the hospital's bedclothes on the bed closest to him.

With his shaved head he seemed much younger, more close to his real age. When Mack approached him he was already avidly staring at him in silence, signalling for him to approach with his head, but hardly moving under the sheets. Mack nodded back and with a knot in his stomach quickly uncovered him to asses by himself his present state, somehow curious of Grey's lack of movement. He found him just dressed with a scarce hospital gown, tied to the bed with some thick leather straps. He casted a quick glance to check by himself that there was no apparent trouble with Grey's legs or arms, but for the strong and unpleasant lingering smell around him. Even in the dark, Mack could see Grey was bruised all over and that he had been stitched here and there.

"Why are you tied up to the bed?" Mack asked in a whisper, without giving up much of his surprise.

"I broke an arm to one of the nurses," Grey told him back in a muffled tone, all matter of fact too.

"How was that?"

"I was in ER, my mind wandering, in and out, not at all myself. She must have been poking and prodding, I don't know, I just remember being in much pain and telling her to stop and then she made me hurt badly. I just reacted. They've got me tied since then."

"OK. What is your condition? Anything broken?" Mack read his bracelet.

"I can't stand this anymore... Please, get me out of these now!" Grey pleaded in a slightly higher tone. "I need to use the bathroom..."

"Hush, hush! You're gonna wake him up." Mack scolded him in a low voice.

"Just undo them! What are you waiting for?" Grey grew impatient by the second.

"That's what I'm doing. Keep your voice down. You need help to move?"

"No...! Don't touch me! Don't you touch me...! Just look for my pants and my shirt and my shoes. I need a bathroom... I need a bathroom.... Those bitches! Just left me here... only water, no feeding, no cleaning... All this time over a fucking diaper. Lying on my own--... Bitches!"

"It's OK, man. Calm down. Cool it. You're getting to my nerves already. We're going out. We'll fix anything you need." Mack murmured in a muffled undertone.

"It's easy for you to say..."

In a harsh whisper Mack ordered Grey, "Hey! I said, enough! What's going on with you? What did they give you as meds?"

"Those bitches. Right now I could top them all. _Hijas de puta! Hijas de puta! _They're supposed to help people..."

"What-had-they-been-giving-you?"

"They will needle me out at their ease whenever they pleased with whatever they pleased! That's it!"

Going out of the hospital proved easier than going in unnoticed by the night shift, the fire stairs just in front that particular room.

"I couldn't steal that bitch's cell phone to call you until this morning, I was so strung out that I couldn't put two fingers together to pick it up from her front pocket. Those damn bitches!"

"Calm down or I'll do it for you. You hear me? We are only half way out. There are security guards at the main hall. Come here, walk closer to the walls. Those are blind spots for the security cameras all along the way out."

"Don't! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Get a room and let me clean up."

"That's we are gonna do. So, focus. There's a 24/7 cafeteria around the corner. Go there and sort yourself out while I fetch the car and then we'll book in some hotel close to the airport. Hush up."

"Bitches..."

"Please, stop. Do it for me... Chill out. Breathe or do something but we've much to go through during the next hours and I need you with a clear mind. You're no use to me like this." Grey hold up his middle finger in response.

"Whatever." Mack just figured he was still too hyped up after all he had been through during the previous days.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: Home Rule -** Chapter 7

**Author: **roomtable202

**Fandom:** The Unit

**Disclaimer:** This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

In half an hour they were in front a new huge hotel building half way to the airport, Grey still moving restlessly in the passenger seat, bulgy red eyes against his former bruising all around, dry cracked lips, his skin pale as a ghost under the dim light of the moon, and several drying stitches here and there, the living image of a zombie. Mack couldn't help himself but being tempted to take a picture of him with his cell phone right then, had not been Grey so disturbed as he was.

"Right. Here we are, kid. Get in first, sneak in to the second floor while I book a room. I'll meet you there."

Mack found Grey fifteen minutes later in the fire stairs, bent over, with flushed cheeks and panting heavily, the acrid smell that accompanied both since they left the hospital much more acute in contrast with the flowery lingering ambiance of the hotel. Grey seemed on the verge of falling on a heap any moment, but he made it to the room on the third floor, dragging his feet, legs wobbly. As soon as Mack opened the door he headed for the bathroom. Mack couldn't help but hearing him throwing up whatever he had in him and didn't wait for the rest, reaching swiftly for the TV remote and the phone list to get room service. Five minutes later no sound was heard for several heart beats and Mack checked.

"Dude... You OK?"

"I'm not passed out... Just about to have a shower. Got some fresh clothes for me in your bag?"

"Nope. All dirty. I didn't stop. Came straight from the Texas assignment. Clean up those you need while you are at it and put them to dry out over the heater."

"Could you order something isotonic and some hamburger and fries?" Grey asked through the bath's closed door.

"I already did. Hurry up with whatever you're doing. We don't have much time and you better rest some before we leave."

"Pass me some of that coffee with a lot of sugar,... I feel light headed." Grey asked him when exited from the bathroom, pale, old and new bruising still standing out all over his skin, but clearly more at ease and appeased than before.

"There. Come. Let's check you up. After what you told me about those guys beating you in that alley, I've got a feeling that we'll find something we'd not like to see and we better find out right here. First, let me see your feet." Grey finished up his coffee and let himself fall backwards over the double bed while lifting his left leg, then his right, no questions asked, as himself had at an image of what Mack could be looking for, the mark of a needle, the work of pros.

"Babe, someone injected you between your middle toes and I guess it was not in the hospital." Grey tensed immediately.

"No, for sure, but I was not tuned in all the time though."

"And that you didn't do it yourself."

"Did you need to ask?! No! What's in your head, Mack?"

"That you've been set up by someone close. Someone that knows you've to pass a drug's test back in HQ? You'll give a positive and will be out of the Unit and the Army so quickly that you won't even have time to see it coming. Not even Ryan would skip something like this. Or, someone might try to blackmail you and we'll soon hear about it. The lucky part is that you wouldn't be here if they wanted you dead. But they've got you, one way or the other. Grey 0 - Enemy 1, whoever that is."

Grey was mighty pissed off with himself, his mind back on that cul-de-sac and how he let himself trapped so easily.

"On your feet and towel off. Let's see if there are any other surprises on you." Mack prompted him.

"Yeah... They might even dog tagged me the way things are."

"You are a big bad bruise all of you... It's even difficult to check... If they were after giving you up on drugs, I think all big ones might give a positive in urine 1-2 days, up to 4. You passed already more than 48 hours in that hospital. They can't test you on your hair as short as you have it right now, so if you----"

"Mack, they already did all the blood and urine tests on me at the hospital. That's the "why" for the beating in that alley in the first place, so that I had the routine procedure done in ER. Whatever the results, they're kind of public now. They could have copied them. They have all the witnesses they want, police, doctors, you name it, to certify they are true. Don't worry about the TOC tests anymore." Charles wrapped the towel around his waist, sat down on the bed and let himself lay over the covers again.

"And you were accepted under your real name, kid... Your bracelet says _Charles Grey_."

"All my docs were faked. I travelled under a Mexican passport. How did they get my real name in that hospital if there wasn't someone with me who told them while checking me in ER?"

"You tell me. (...) Breaking an arm to that nurse was bad luck because now, even Mexican police has a copy of your results, not just the hospital... and an open file with your name on it with your photo, a copy of the preliminary report, whatever you had on you or they may have planted on you."

"The American Embassy must have been informed by now and lights will start flashing at the TOC already. My cover and my career in the Army all burnt down in a single move. So neat. (...) Dead man walking, Mack. You better get out of my way soon before some smart ass wraps you in the same package. Save yourself getting involved."

"Consider it this way: you have a Unit member, who is rogue, you. How do you hunt him down? Let's work on it backwards and see how well we can cover our tracks until we can start the hunt ourselves."

"Full circle, huh," Grey muttered, clearly more to himself than Mack's.

"The hard way it is," Mack mumbled back. "Lucky us, there is no one here but the fighters."

Grey raised his left hand and ran it through his shaven head, still lying flat on the bed, his eyes rolling up to meet Mack's. A quiet look of understanding passed between the two men.

"Mack... Sounds to you like a punishment from the inside?"

"Sounds like anything. For the moment, let's trade some space for time, Carlito. Let's move on closer to the border for now. Second on the row, we should get you fit and ready for duty by then; you still are under the influence of whatever shit they gave you at the hospital. We should get rid of those traces. You must sweat it out of your system quicker than quick. Lots of water and Tabasco will do for the moment; that should unleash your system top speed. We'll get some saline to help us as soon as we cross the border. Then we'll see some analyses done to control you are clean before you report back for duty. Last for now, we should replace your whereabouts of last week somewhere else in the States and make it real."

"Wait, Mack. I really believe you should stand back and away from this. Do it for the girls. We did what we did for the girls in the first place and now it has backfired so ugly that you can't risk it to taint you and hurt them collaterally. I can't stand the idea. I appreciate your guidance and backup, we both know it, but you are to stay in the shadows on this one. Don't let them double score on you too."

"Dude, if you're fishing for a chick-flick moment, you came to the wrong man. Hose up to that bathroom tap and start drinking, Moctezuma and all. They'll bring the meal I ordered in a minute. I'll wait to sign it and then I'll get back to our first hotel and pick up the duffel with the equipment from that roof. Try to get some rest yourself."

Mack extended his right hand to help Charles sit straight in the bed and he could feel immediately the trembling of his hand, even so slightly, and saw too in his sunken dull eyes the deep-set concern and utter discouragement that would never make it to words Grey being Grey. Without thinking, from his standing position, Mack rubbed with his knuckles Charles's shaven head, gradually sinking between his bruised shoulders. "Let's do it, mate. Let's do it. Just another day in the office for you and me."

Grey would usually just put a fake smile and chuckle or make a joke like every time he was trapped in an emotional situation. Not this time. It was different now. It was like everything was too much for him to shoulder anymore. It was "back to square one". Mack sat by his side and let the silence rule for a while before clearing his throat. "You okay?"

"Are you? Because, yours is the con". The answer did take him by surprise. "You look at me and you see the last Uncle Sam's roadkill."

"Get over this self-pitying shit you're giving me back, and fast." Mack cut him short. "I don't need it and neither do you. Weakness is not allowed in our trade. That's one thing we both know for sure. And I am not the one to put up with yours. Ranger on, kiddo. Ranger on..." The knocking on the door for the room service was heard just in time.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 8

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

Mack Gerhardt just mounted the battery on his cell phone the moment he thought it was safe again that his whereabouts were tracked by the TOC. The insidious voice mailbox sound started beeping like crazy; he had missed calls from Jonas, from Bob, from Tiffy, from the Colonel, from Molly, even the landlady; and did the safe thing, he called Jonas first but from a pay phone in one of the many petrol stations where they stopped Grey paying what seemed his hundredth visit to the men's room. There was bad to worse news waiting for him, each new info Jonas was feeding him spiraling Grey closer to disaster in Mack's mind's eye.

When a couple of weeks ago Mack found a way to blend duty to his country with duty to his family by agreeing Grey to arrange for a new fight in Tijuana little could he figure out he would unleash such an uncontrolled and unsuspected chain of events. Grey and Mack's agenda on their tour to Tijuana included a probe to know whether Grey had been tracked down in this new visit and so probably had been too during his first. It was a long shot, both knew, but Mack trusted his guts and Grey trusted Mack.

Mack proved to be right. Both had the proof now on a video tape although what was on that video tape or what it proved exactly maybe had to be reconsidered under the new light of the facts that Jonas was dropping one by one. Not that he wasn't now in the eye of that storm too himself, but he knew he was safe as far as he didn't shift much. What tore him apart was that he felt he had pushed Grey past forward the safety zone to face the storm's violent assault all alone just because of a personal gain of his. And then, this moment, Jonas telling him hastily that there was a copy of a Capri's Isle security camera recording showing Grey possibly caught in an illegal act for which he could be dishonorably discharged quicker than quick struck him so hard that he could hardly concentrate on Jonas's hurried words.

"Think on what I've just told you, Mack. Contents of this Capri's Isle video on Grey might be in Ryan's hands any minute now. Dauber came to give me a fair warning. We should get Carlito out of this without the shadow of a doubt and soon. Not the slightest trace of a suspicion must remain about him on the TOC or the quarters."

"Jonas..."

"Listen now! I am not in control anymore. Bob is taking care of Tijuana's records both in the hospital and in the police, we all have been in some bar brawl or other, but news of this recording gets out Dauber's team circle, at best, Grey will be transferred. He might even be asked to resign." Jonas stated and made an uncomfortable pause. "Thus, if we contain the guys from exercising some rough justice on him somehow. We have to act most ricky tick. Gossip spreads like fear, more and more."

"But, what have "you" seen? What's in there?"

"Carlito passing money to some ugly guy day in day out for a couple of weeks in exchange of something so small that can hardly be seen. I haven't identified the guy yet"

"So?"

"So? First "so".., someone in Dauber's knew Grey had been in red numbers for more than six months on a row, Grey told him himself, as we both know too. Second "so".., Carlito he'd been spotted by Dauber's team dealing with someone called Díaz, one of Dauber's targets, while on a field assignment in Mexico a couple of months ago and then "puff", all debts went up in smoke. Third "so".., Carlito has been acting wilder than his usual wild since Beirut in front of everyone to see, particularly in the Capri's Isle. Fourth "so".., Mack... Dauber and his team think he might be on a fix with drugs and has become a liability for the Unit and they ask us to solve the matter within the team or Dauber will put it all over Ryan's desk.

"God!! Charlie hates drugs!! How many times you and I had seen him in pain and still he had refused to be injected until he had been in pure agony, you know that."

"Whatever, Mack, but Dauber won't fail to do what I told you, Ryan will know soon. Dauber has got his team behind it, Mack. I would do it too if I was him. Just the possibility of having someone hooked is bad enough, but think on the consequences if Diaz had got a option on a weak link that could pass inside intel to him or whoever has access to Díaz."

"You know Grey has not gone rogue and so do I. Have some faith on the man! Sure there is an explanation."

"You know what is important about faith? If you've gonna have faith, you can just have it when miracles happen. You've to have it when they don't. I'm with you on that." Jonas finalized Mack's thought.

"And, something else, I might know his source of finances and it's not what it seems."

"You know what exactly?"

"It's a very innocent thing... He bought an old Camaro and we fixed it between the two of us. He's got some nice cash in return. He's clean. I'm telling you."

"Hear, hear. I'm not saying he isn't. But, right now, all this shit is over my table and it will end on Ryan's in three days. That's what we've got. I could let Ryan work it out in his mysterious ways if everything is so neat and clear, Mack, and spare the rest of the team getting involved while Ryan clears this mess. But Ryan and Grey are like chalk and cheese; they hardly can stand each other, God knows why. Shall we just leave it to Ryan's judgment? I say no, out of respect for Charlie. I don't think he would like having his fate just in Ryan's hands. It might be nice to think there is some kind of cosmic balance in the universe; but, there, for sure, isn't any innocence."

"I am with you."

"Dauber told me something else it happened last year with Carlito that I was unaware of. It's not helping at all."

"About "mystery man" himself?"

"Listen to this. Remember Ritchie, the newbie from Dauber's team? Carlito took him out of a bad fix with heroin when he got back after all those months in Afghanistan. He took it on his own to work it out with Ritchie, one to one, out of Carlito's cumulated free days. They kept it just between Ritchie, Ritchie's wife, Grey and Dauber. It seems that during the initial phase it all was very rough and nasty to say the least; for both of them. The situation escalated into a physical struggle soon, so much, that even Ritchie's wife got scared and left them alone in the bungalow they had hired."

"It's between the two, I don't see how---"

"When Dauber's team was discussing Grey, Ritchie told them all about his previous fix but for them to know that at different times Grey produced some heroin of his own to help him with his withdrawal. That was kind of final to all of them and all agreed Dauber should get things forward with me and with Ryan."

"Stop! This is becoming insane. I'll take Charlie with me to Texas. To my father's. No cell phone coverage there. That will do to keep him out of it. I'll try to get Carlito back on shape to face all this shit. He is a right mess just now, Hector, Annie and Beirut finally got a tight grip on him. You wouldn't believe your eyes. Chewed up, spitted out and walked over. Grant us an official training leave for a week at least and the same time from Dauber. Remind him of all the free training on field medicine he and his men have received from Charlie, I take it neither Ritchie nor Sullivan will be around to vote on anything if it wasn't for him."

"Mack, this is a team thing. Don't take it personally. I'm with Carlito too and so is Bob. Don't get mistaken. I think we all passed that exam last SERE, don't step back yourself on this and don't let Carlito mess up either."

"I must hang up now. He is coming."

"It's time to separate the wheat form the chaff, the sheep from the goats. As I said, Grey must come out of this fit and squeaky clean or there is no use to anything we know or we can do. Understand? Get all the info from him but keep him busy and out of it as much as you can, I'll look around to get things straightened up. Keep in touch."

"Leaving now!"

* * *

Each bump of the old, back country road knocked Grey's head against the window, and after ten minutes, he grumbled and sit up, eyes wide but blurry.

"You alright?" Mack asked, his eyes to the road.

"Other than getting my head bashed in, yeah."

"We're arriving."

"Arriving where, exactly?" Grey had been sleeping the last 200 miles, in and out, when bumps and his unsettled stomach permitted."

"To my father's hunting cabin. Home when I was kid. Feeling better? No more stomach cramps?"

"I should be me asking you how you feel. You've been at the wheel more than 20 hours in a row now. When was the last time you slept?"

"I'll have plenty of time for that in a while. So...?"

"I'm good, Mack" But Mack raised an admonishing finger at him. "Ok, Ok... I don't know yet. I've just woken up. I've to adjust. Have a splitting headache, though. You?"

"I am dog tired. And hungry, hungry, hungry!! Feel like drinking some more?"

"In a minute. Don't press so hard, Ranger. I know. I remember." Grey cleared his throat. Even in profile, he looked appalled. "Like everything else in this mess, I can't say for sure, but I very much doubt... I mean, there's much less risk of anyone getting tipped off the TOC than... If I get Diaz back to me... it's one of the things that I stand a chance of finding out. I start asking myself whether they're not coincidences, but positive correlations like you said before we went to Tijuana. I never thought I will, but I do now. Maybe people from---"

"I don't think so anymore."

"Why is that? Have you talked to Jonas or Bob yet? Do you know anything I don't?"

"No. No. Relax. We're tired now, both of us. It's not the time or the place to think over this. We need a clearer mind." Grey settled his gaze on him, cheeks sagged, eyes bleary.

The radio had been on all the time as a background sound for Mack to hear, but just that minute, when a thick silence settled between the two, the invigorating Oslo's song emerged like a message from the ether just for them, "_Everyone is talking filling up my head with dirt. It's time to dig in and get to work. Oh but I feel like a soldier, all dressed to kill. I feel like a soldier, oh oh with blood to spill_" and Mack lifted his eyes from the road for a second and looked sideways at Charlie, a wry, mischievous smile curling his lips, and both cried out aloud at the same time: "Army strong, babe!! Army strong!!" a long standing quip among the two that nobody else could understand and that gave them a burst of laughter at the memories those words conceited.

"Oh!! Damnit, Mack!! My brain is gonna explode any minute now! Don't make me laugh... I've just learned that it hurts like a mother when I laugh!"

"Suck it up, you wimp! What! You don't have brains, it can't hurt!" Said Mack light heartedly. "Do you remember those little caves near Muscat? Three days just lying down or crouching, those ticks eating us alive from dawn to dusk, you and I, our faces, arms and ankles a mass of red spots, most of them bleeding because we couldn't help scratching all the time... that was hell."

"Yeah... What a happy memory to recall. And all for nothing 'cause Sameer never showed up. Thanks D.C. Again."

"You did seem to have a great time though. I remember you didn't stop to play all sort of pranks to me which was kind of an amazing show off of creative thinking having in mind there were only rocks and a whole catalogue of frigging insects around." Mack made a pause but Grey didn't jump up to the occasion of starting a conversation just then "Hey. There is something I know about you, Charlie."

"And what's that...'"

"The greater the challenge, the happier I see you."

"And..."

"And, you've the greatest challenge of all in front of you and I just heard you laughing for the first time in weeks. Everything is going well." Charlie chuckled softly and rolled his eyes up in disbelief.

"You're simply unbelievable... There is no end to your optimism?"

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 9

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

The cabin was located near the top of a mountain in an especially remote area of Texas. It was small; there were only three rooms, including a small bathroom. The kitchen and living room were separated only by a round wooden table. Mack's father was nowhere to be seen and Grey and Mack shared the only beer they found in the fridge to accompany some canned tomato beans before preparing the main room's double sofa-bed for the night.

In the small hours of the next morning, Grey bolted up in bed. Sweat beading on his forehead, pain radiating from his chest and gasped in agony.

"Carlito?" Mack's voice came over from the other side of the double bed.

Grey looked over, clutching his chest, gasping for breath, pain increasing.

"Carlito? A flashback?" Mack said worriedly, seeing his mate in pain. Grey gasped faster, trying to take in oxygen.

He managed to nod. Mack could see the fear in his mate's eyes. Rushing to his side, Mack placed his two hands in Grey's shoulders, whispering "Slowly. Breathe, slowly."

"Can't... breathe... No..." He managed to rasp out. His lungs screamed and his heartbeat resounded in his head. He needed breathing, needed air, but he couldn't move. Grey wheezed out before falling back to the mattress, eyes wide, feeling his body limp and drained, heart pounding so strongly now that created its own pain chest. His lungs screamed for air, finding it more and more difficult to draw breath, his head throbbing painfully.

Mack took him by his wrists, Grey still clutching tight at his chest, and sat him upright again. "Don't panic. Just breathe. You're OK. Breathe. We're in Texas now, remember? At my father's." After long seconds, he started swallowing his much needed air in big avid gulps, his chest heaved with quick, rasping breaths.

"Breathe nice and smooth... You're hyperventilating. You are gonna pass out. In and out. With me. In... and out. In.... and out." Mack soothed him in a whisper.

"Man... I am... not... giving birth here..." Grey wheezed with the effort.

"See? That's an image I didn't need", Mack snorted quietly. Carlito responded with the shadow of a smile in his hard lined face and half a chuckle, deeply grateful at Mack's trying to diffuse his embarrassment with this moment of levity.

It still took him another minute or two, but finally Grey's ragged breathing subsided and started to synchronize his own breathing with Mack's, which was what Mack had been expecting him to do, keeping his inhales and exhales as even as possible. Gradually, Mack loosened his hold, as part of Grey's former angst faded and signs of relief washed over his frayed nerves.

"Man, you scared me! I thought I should be giving you the kiss of life. I could never look at you the same way again at the showers. My manhood compromised for the rest of my career." Mack said lightly. "You OK, now?

He allowed his pupils to flit around the room. "Will be... A sec..." Charles said in a rasping whisper. Heart thudding, he swallowed, subconsciously trying to swallow his fear, and allowed his mind to absorb his surroundings once more.

Dark, cold, wood room. Not Beirut.

His face flushed with shame at the outburst, at the absolute fear that had overcome his normally collected self. "Sorry, man…" he muttered.

"I know what it is. It is this enclosed space and this strong lingering smell from hunting. Help me get the mattress out. We will sleep much better on the porch, with some fresh air. What do you say?"

Grey nodded, still dazzled, small white spots dancing in his eyes, his throat dry and just raised his hand as a go sign.

* * *

The sun had yet to rise when Mack woke Charles, nudging him gently against his side as he spoke. "Do you come for a short cross country? Let's go hunting something for lunch. We need protein and I'll show you around. You'll see by yourself. Some incredible spots. These mountains are something special. You'll love them."

"Rise and shine."

"Want me to get rid of those stitches of yours before we leave? They're too dry to be good."

"I can do it."

"Me too, chicken little. It'll be fun. I'll bet 10 bucks there I'll get some tears in your eyes with those in the right side of your nose."

"There will be tears in your face for sure if you make me hurt in the slightest, pale face. Just remember what happened to Mexican Florence Nightingale."

"Let's go before dad comes around or he will drag us down."

"Can we wait some?"

"Sure. Pain kicking in again?"

"Live and in colours. It'll pass in a short while, I just need some time to make contact with myself."

"I'll go and fetch the med kit and bring it here then. We can prepare some breakfast when we are finished and we make a more slow start. You didn't buy anything for the pain, huh? I've got nothing on my bag right now. Will see what my father has got."

"Don't need anything. I'm Ok. It's just while those first moments when waking up. I'll warm up a bit and I'll be fine. Let's get the mattress back in first, just in case your dad comes around.

"He won't yet. Not so early. Most possibly he won't be back until this evening. I saw his truck while we crossed the city. I know where he is. Don't worry. Let's take care of those stitches and make some coffee first. House cleaning later. Come on in."

* * *

It was cold, damp, bone-chilling cold in those early hours of the morning. Heavy banks of fog had swallowing the tops of the tallest trees, when they left a while afterwards. It had mostly started raining, and water dripped from pine needles and clung to grass blades. The grass was deep and thick, and Charlie's pants were soon soaked from the knee down. But any of that had deterred them to keep on mounting over the top where Mack had promised he would find the eight wonder of the world, one that only a few chosen could claim to have seen.

The mud had built up around their shoes. It was heavy going up. His legs were burning. Physically it was a wrecking journey, but Grey felt good, somehow grateful to get in touch again with earth. As he walked he tried to work out what had happened during those last days. He knew he needed a fallback plan but couldn't come with any; he felt like he was blindly to nowhere. He was pretty sure too that Mack was keeping him blindfolded about some new chapter on this wreck of a life of his he was living on lately, Mack's tranquil mood always preceding the perfect storm when getting into combat.

Charles Grey wasn't a man to wait for anything, so he acted. He stopped all of a sudden climbing up the mountain and abruptly faced Mack. He asked him straight for all the answers he needed just then. When Mack finished telling him short and blunt about the last developments at the TOC, there Grey finally was in total confusion and he couldn't make sense of it. What of himself took their mates to think so low of him? Why they actually came to the easiest explanation without granting him the benefit of a higher goal than buying some fix? When he did get back to the Unit, what sort of reception could he expect? In those very first seconds of realisation, in his mind, he started running around like the cornered rat that he felt he was, trying to find a way out. Had he to get up that mountain again, once more having to justify his actions to strangers that didn't know anything about him? Did he have to retrace his steps to all of them to find the path to a place and to a people that seemed wouldn't be his anymore?

Mack just stood by his side looking at Grey's slightly trembling chin, not knowing if it was of rage, if it was a sign that he was about to crumble down right there or just a physical reaction to the cold wind, and waited for a clearer indication to intervene. It was when Grey fled running up the cliff. Running, running felt good. And he ran for the top of the peak, far away but at sight. He got out of the immediate area, left Mack behind, his chest heaved as he fought for breath, his legs already on fire. Just go for it! Just go for it! He kept telling himself. He was about to get past the top. He was elated. He felt he had cracked it. And only then he did hear Mack shouting after him to stop, that the cliff ended abruptly into a sheer drop. For a split second he was dead. He felt dead. Just the border of a deathly fall down now. At least it could be quick and in an open space, his way. Not drunk and wasted is some dirty alley, dishonourably discharged, all those he considered his family having turned his back on him. What the border crossing was like physically, at the TOC or here? Should be heavily defended or not defended at all by him?

He stopped short, too close damn short of that precipice over the valley. He looked at his feet and what he could see was a large depression on the peak's large rock base. He was assaulted by the fear of what he had almost done. The rock face was moulded like a two seat on the top of the world just a yard under and he let himself slip down there. Looking straight ahead, he could see the river that crossed the most magnificent scenery that he'd ever seen. He pressed his body against the cold rock, waiting for Mack, panting heavily, all that had to be said on Mack's part was already, Charlie had no doubt about it now. No need to dig further, from that moment it was up to himself and only to himself.

Mack had been siding by him once again during his ordeal in Tijuana, but now he couldn't tell him the truth as he knew it on this new one. The Capri had to be left out of Mack's limits for his own sake. Of all those involved in the latest events it was only Mack the one, not even Jonas or Bob, who had the right to know it all, why he did what he did in that back alley, and Mack was the only one to whom he couldn't confess it, neither ask for his forgiveness or his counsel, he couldn't ask for anything more out of him from then on. Since he had known from Mack already what the TOC had in store for him, the best he could do was to just accept his fate as it was as quietly as he could, without making waves and praying that whoever was putting the case against him will respect Mack as much as he will, as much as he tried to by his past actions, those that just now had backfired full force against him.

What has been done, has been done. What he had done, he had done willingly and he did not regret it. He had stopped the Colonel and defended the chance of Mack getting back home to his daughters and Tiffy, reaching for the goal that was within his grasp: the one and only thing that Carlito had seen Mack longing for and grieving for so deeply since they shared the apartment and their private life together.

Mack's stomach jolted when Charlie had literally run away uphill from him after he had broken the last events at the TOC to him. He knew Charlie all too well, not someone all quiet and stoic at all times, Grey being Grey, dealing with things at his own pace and time,... in the open but concealing.

In all relationships there is the possibility of a potential treason. Without trust there was no possible friendship nor intimacy, any emotional links. Mack trusted Charles. He was his brother, but much more, the closest thing to a friend he had. He just had had proof enough of that during the last weeks, not that he needed any after six years together in the unit either.

Mack respected that Charlie had decided to close off to him, not taking it as a positive confirmation of the charges that were going to be put against him. He understood Charlie was winning for himself some space and time, that he didn't want risking to fall apart even more in front of Mack than he already did in the cabin last night. So he could only hope that Charlie was using his silence to work in controlling his pain and emotions, healing, getting the better out of him,...

Mack had learnt the hard way that, contrary to the general believe, when you look at things in the dark and under pressure they can look pretty good, an illusion created for the mind to rest; but in the daytime the picture can be totally different. He only hoped that Charlie's mind would strive to get in touch with reality just then and will make the best of the information he had just given him to plan for an exit scenario good enough to keep himself in the team.

When Charlie heard Mack approaching at a rushed pace, he tried to steady his breath and let that perfect scenery under his dangling feet balm his mind enough not to weight down Mack further with his own increasing distress and he addressed him keeping a tight rein on his mounting anxiety has much as he managed to.

"It's true, Mack. That was a long time since I saw this much beauty all in a single place." He knew he couldn't fool Mack entirely about his present state of mind but counted on Mack in turning a blind eye on it for as long as Charlie needed.

"Didn't I tell you? My brother and I came here very often to escape for a while. You're sitting in his place. I had wanted to share it with you from a long time." Mack followed, keeping Carlito's lead.

"I'm sorry now not to have accepted you invitation for coming a long time ago." Grey looked at Mack's concerned face briefly while Mack just prepared himself to slip down to the naturally moulded form on the rock side by side by Grey's.

"Isn't it like a frigging throne on top of the world? Nothing else matters here." Mack profited using Carlito's shoulder to steady himself while seating by his side to squeeze it softly twice and make his silent message of reassurance and comfort arrive to his friend.

"Yes..." And Charles closed his eyes and let his physical pain drain away along with the rain drops dripping down his face, sliding down that rock face, to the silver river deep down under his feet, to be taken far away... and just relaxed and started emptying his mind too, spoonful by spoonful, down to the bottom of the valley, working to make good that old parachuting saying, if you know the landing is going to be fearsome: "Feet and knees together and accept the landing". And Charlie realized he should give it a go... If he had to pay in for it, he will give that one step ahead, striving forward, never looking back and walking tall.

The rain stopped and gave way to a bright welcomed sun. Both passed the next hour without saying anything else to each other, in complete silence, comfortably embraced by the coolness of their involving rock seat and the warm bathing of the slowly rising sun in between the grey sky, both engulfed in their own inner wars, wading through their own thoughts, each one looking for an improved chance of survival to this new ordeal waiting for them at the other side.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 10

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

"You're gonna do shit in my house, you smart ass!" Mack's father stormed as he pushed up from the chair so hard that it tittered and fell over with a thud to the floor. "You're gonna do shit! I don't want to be in any of your shitty things!"

Mack didn't move from his position against the bedroom door jam, arms crossing his chest, piercing blue eyes staring at his father. Grey leaned down and grabbed up the chair and sat it upright.

"This son of mine…he wears me down sometimes…." Mack's father let out a frustrated breath.

Mack saw some hesitation on his father's face, a fleeting moment when he might reconsider his decision, but then, it quickly vanished, stern challenging glare falling back into place.

Grey's eyes spanned across the dimly lit room as he slowly pushed the creaky door open. "Mr. Gerhardt, sir, pleased to make your acquaintance. I'd be leaving for a walk in the woods now. I've been seating too much time, I need some fresh air."

"In the dark? Is your friend crazier than you?" Mr. Gerhardt croaked with a blurred voice. "Where are you going? OK, you can stay, both of you. You'll help me with a couple of things tomorrow." He vented, the angry glare gone from his face, replaced with one of resignation. The man's intoxicated strong breath could be felt with every word.

Mack shook his head slightly silently thanking Grey, who took Mack's go-back and left making a final, discreet sign that he'd be waiting in the car.

"Dad, we didn't come here to work for you. We have things to do of our own. I thought you wouldn't mind to give us shelter for a couple of nights. We need to rest."

"Why did you come here? Who is that guy? I can tell he is in the military for the way he addressed me but he looks like some frigging raccoon to me." A remark that made Mack smile at the familiar sound of his father's sense of humor as with his dark eyes inside the black bruising all around Charlie's eyes could easily be caricatured that way. "I'm not fucking clown! Get that stupid smile out of your face or I--"

Mr. Gerhardt made a start towards Mack when he stumbled against the wood table in the middle of the room.

Mack was by his father's side instantly. "Here. Let me help." But his father pushed him away. Hard. "How many have you had? I saw your truck by the "Dices" earlier. You were committed to try last time we talked."

"It's been six months since you came last time." Mack's father complained in a blurred voice. "You said you'll help me, that you'll fix this place and send me money every month and you let me down. Just as you always do. And now you come just because there is something you need. I should be able to sit up on my own, don't you think, you smart ass..."

"I do what I can. You don't seem to help much yourself."

"I take care of myself my own way."

"Because of my work at the Logistics you know I pass much time away in a row sometimes, but I arranged with the Grocery's store that you're stocked every month. I've arrived with a friend here, we were hungry and there were only three sad cans of beans and a beer, and it's only 15th. I'll talk to them tomorrow."

"You'll talk shit!!!" His father had stood as he said this, apparently ready to knock down his son. "You don't come here at my house to tell me what to do!!!"

"Dad. Ease down."

"Come on you ungrateful little shit. I know you want to hit me. Do it now! Do you think I don't see you in your eyes?"

"Dad, it's time to go to bed. You've got one too many. I didn't come here to fight."

"The hell you didn't!!! You came to show off in front your raccoon friend here!!! Inviting him for a paid holiday at my house and without my permission!!! You bring nothing and you complain there is nothing!!! I have nothing because of you!!!

* * *

Charles overheard part of the conversation while doubting on the cabin's porch whether going inside the car and try and sleeping a bit more, but being aware of the turn the conversation was taking he decided to go for a walk around for real and get back when things had cooled down a bit.

When Charles came back, in one hour or so, he found Mack had left with the car and Mack's father looking dejected, head over his arms on the table, snoring loudly, an empty bottle of whiskey nearby. The man looked rough even in his sleep. He soon realized a lump swelling red in the right side of his face and a small trickle of blood coming from his knuckles.

"Mr. Gerhardt.." Charlie called him softly. "Mr. Gerhardt..." The smell of whiskey got stronger when he moved closer to shake him slightly by the shoulder "Mr. Gerhardt, you OK?" Charles reached forward to gingerly touch the lump. As his fingers made contact, there was a moan from him. Charlie removed his hand and watched his eyelids flicker.

"Frigging hell!!! What?"

"It's OK, Mr. Gerhardt. It's me, Charles Grey. Mack's friend."

"The raccoon... What do you want? You should be in the bottom of some dirty ditch by now. Going for a walk at night in these mountains..." His words were slurred and although his eyes were directly looking at Grey, his look was hazy and unfocused.

"I'm OK, but you seem you had some domestic accident here? Let me help"

"What do you care?" Mr. Gerhardt groaned again and reached up with one hand towards his head. It didn't get as far as the lump before he let it fall back to his side. Charles noted the bruising that surrounded one eye.

"How many fingers?' asked Charles holding up one hand. Mr. Gerhardt made an unintelligible garbling sound, stopped, shook his head, then tried again. 'One, and up yours you jerk!

"From unconsciousness to sarcasm in five seconds. Well done." Charles went to the fridge and enveloped some ice cubes into a soft cloth approaching it to Mr. Gerhardt's forefront. "There..."

"Get this out of me!"

"It would help you to reduce the swelling." Charles approached the cold cloth again to him only to see how he took it to chuck it back to him in one flick of his arm.

"Ok, ok... No trouble. So, where is Mack?" He did pick up the different ice cubes up from the floor and threw them into the kitchen sink. A dense silence followed for a few seconds during which Grey couldn't help but staring hard into those pale eyes of his that seemed so much darker now. Mack's father hammered down his left closed fist against the table making the whisky bottle jump and Charlie too, taken aback by the unexpected violence of his reaction.

Suddenly, those same pale eyes melted in a well of tears, flowing freely down Mr. Gerhardt's cheeks the next second.

"What is so bad, Mr. Gerhardt? Let me help." Charlie went into the bathroom, wet a cloth, brought it out and gently wiped the blood off his hand.

"I'm old" he admitted, his voice muffled. Charles continued to sit and listen. "Mack is so selfish. He doesn't listen. When he was a kid, by God, my belt made him and his brother straighten and comply with his duty, but now I never see him except whenever he needs something. He never brings the girls with him. There's a lot to do here but he doesn't care. He couldn't care about me either. It's his duty! Right?" Charles heard him ask, and then say almost in a whisper. "I'm old. I'm his father. He owes me."

Eventually Mack's father sniffled and wiped his blanched face. Still red-nosed and tear-strained he said to Charles: "He wants to join him in the road cafeteria at the south entrance. I don't have anything for dinner for you. Take my truck. If you don't mind, load the tank in the gas station and bring back some food back if you're to stay. I'd like to invite you to a beer later but I'd not been in the city for a while."

"Don't worry, sir. I'll bring back some shopping."

"If you bring with you something stronger than a beer, you'll be more than welcome."

"Sure! It's freezing cold around here."

"I'm more of a bourbon type."

"Me too. So, we have something in common."

"I doubt it. Go now."

"If that's OK with you, I'd enliven the fire a bit first." Charles leveled his gaze to Mr. Gerhardt's "You seem tired. I hope you don't mind me saying, but wouldn't you rather have some rest? I'd take care of bringing in some more wood and then I'll go look for Mack and the rest of things. Everything will be OK in the morning, you'll see."

"You really care for people, don't you? Not like that cold bastard son of mine. Thank you", said Mr. Gerhardt while heading with unsteady paces for his bedroom. Charles looked away. Sure there were quite a few scars that house could tell of, and sure all of them told stories he didn't know. He'd learned long ago that some questions were better left unasked.

Some 20 minutes afterwards, ready to go, he had been hearing the deep snoring coming from Mack's father room but he went to check all the same. Mr. Gerhardt's face, in sleep, was relaxed, his thick red lashes spiked with sweat against his flushed cheeks. He looked younger and the more he looked at him, the more he wanted to believe that tonight was nothing personal, he needed a release and Mack happened to be in the right place at the right time. Charles had not known his own father, didn't even have a clue what ethnicity he was, and it hurt him somehow to find out that Mack had one that didn't seem to care much for his son either.

* * *

_"Jonas. Mack. I'm calling from a cafeteria. Carlito is not with me. You see the number in your phone, I guess. Call back from another phone right now, it's 8pm, can wait only for 20 minutes. We don't have much time and we better talk a bit in private."_

* * *

At the road cafetería, an hour later, Grey quickly spotted Mack at one of the corner's tables and sat by his side.

"Pretty disgusting, huh?" Mack said immediately, head down.

"No, no. It's what it's."

"You understand it all, then. No need for more to say. He hunts around and gets some money here and there. He knows these mountains like no one, though. This was it for me and my brother, we did a lot of hunting together, family business, until we came of age and I left with Tiffy for San Antonio. My father still doesn't know Lissy or Jen. Saw Tiffy just once. So no need to mention to her we were here."

"Sure."

"Making a living is pretty hard around here in general. One of the few places that you can call wild for real these mountains. You've seen nothing yet. But it was tough. You know, with my father, my brother and I had all kind of hunting accidents. Sometimes he wouldn't take us to the clinic, so he'll patch us up himself or when he forgot to do it, my brother and I did it for ourselves."

"That sounds a rough life for kids."

"It was. I didn't realize then, nothing to compare with at the time, but when I look at my girls now, I do understand very many things of my own past."

"Where is your brother now?"

"Died on a hunt accident when we were young. I left a little bit afterwards."

"Rest in peace..."

"So, what do you say? We change the date on our cell phones. We take a couple of photos with the dogs tomorrow, with the old newspaper more or less at sight and we can leave for a motel and try and rest a little for real. I am wasted. We can come back some other time and lose ourselves around for a couple of weeks."

"Maybe we should be saving some money. We can sleep in the car while we get back home."

"Man, I am done. I need a decent bed and so do you. (...) Don't worry, the girl's money is on its way. But I've got enough of mine for a couple of hamburgers with fries and some beers too and whatever we need tonight."

"We can stay here and lend a hand to your father too, if you feel like it. A little bit of exercise will do us good."

"No. We came here to rest. We'll do some exercise but at our own pace. I know quite all too well how it works with my father, you show him some kindness and all he sees is a slave to abuse not a helping hand. My father is many things, but among all he is a survivor; don't worry about him whatever he told you. I keep an eye on him, even from a far distance, always did but he'll never recognize it."

But then, things didn't go on as Mack had planned them originally, Jonas didn't call back and Mack found himself draining his own misery all over Grey at the end of a long string of beers and whisky chasers and a long night into the early hours of the morning. In the end, Mack was in the last stage of what had been a long way to the car, seated on the cold wet ground of the parking lot, his shoulders against the trunk, so drunk he wasn't able to coordinate his movements and Grey had barely managed to take him close before he let himself slip to the floor.

"You're now last man on the bridge... You see I can't rely... on my father. ...And last man on the bridge ...has to be able to command the ship when there is no one else there. Please help Tiffy and help my girls make it, man. Take some care of my father too... You are me now... Last man on the bridge..."

"You're not thinking straight, pale face... Listen to me. What makes you think I'll survive you? You better make friends with some pen pusher for that. As your father put it so neatly, I'm just a crazy raccoon."

"You swear... to me.... you will take... care of them, bro..."

"You know I will. For now, let's take some care of us first."

Grey looked around. Everyone being there at those early hours of the morning was carrying their own burdens, regardless of how exhausted and battered they were but he didn't want to attire the good sleeping people attention with so much fuss.

Charles hooked his arm beneath his teammate's broad shoulders and lifted him from the wet floor of the parking lot. Stumbling back to the car's front, with Mack's weight against his body and that stale smell of whisky, beer and sweat that he exuded deep up in his nostrils, he thought how much they were each other's strengths and weaknesses, but they'll never be quite alright with it.

"Work with me, bro. Get into the car and we'll go and rest for real for a couple of days while on our way back. It's time to go back."

"Let me... do it my... own... way... And ... what I want now is... to... have... a leak....and stay here a while.. longer..."

"What? We need to go now. You wanna be discharged for conduct not befitting a soldier, dude?" Grey teased him. At that, Mack did look up from his disheveled position in the front seat of the car.

"Let's go home today..."

"We are home, Mack. Everywhere we are is home. It doesn't matter where you are. It only matters what you do, you taught me that. We need to rest first." By the time Grey pulled again into the first motel he saw, Mack was fast asleep, his head against the window, facing Grey. His face now dirty and pale. The dark gray circles under his eyes reminding Grey of another incident where he was really shocked by his brother in arms behavior, when he thought, maybe, he had the push he needed to leap from the edge and plummet into the darkness within. Only when he registered and got the keys did he make a try for Mack making it to its own devices to their room. "Mack?"

"Mmmm"

"Mack, you're zoning out..." Grey took Mack's jacket collar to drive him off the car. The man could barely stand but stumbling and all it was enough to make it through the door and to the closest bed; with the help of Grey steadying arm around his waist. Charlie rolled him slightly to the side and tucked a pillow behind his back to make sure he wouldn't shift from that position. He took off Mack's Glock from his back and the knife out of his pocket before taking off his shoes and his wet pants and socks and tuck him under the covers and an extra blanket.

Was there anything more disheartening than seeing a copycat of yourself lying broken infront of you? Understanding that booze was the only allowed way to take all the stress out of your main systems and, at the same time, it were such a filthy way, so gross, so low, at that. He preferred sex for that trade. But he had not committed to marriage like Mack after all.

Right now he felt tired and sore and dizzy and empty, like he had been pre-emptied just before being finally dumped. His mind awake, his heart pumping but no soul. Maybe he had been expecting too much time, waiting for his brothers in arms to help him... but two were on deployment and the other laying in front of him, as much in need as himself, soaked in alcohol all over to cure his own past's rapidly spreading infection as much as to prevent getting infected by Carlito's own's. He realized how much those brotherly arms to catch him as he was falling, those helping hands he needed so badly then, were at the end of his own arms in the end. He approached Mack again to make sure the folded pillow would maintain him in a more secure lateral position as heavily drunk as he was right then and readied himself for having some sleep. It was as simple as diving, as simple as realizing the bottom was under your feet and kicking hard down against it to help yourself to surface again, the eyes always on the light above. When you hit bottom you have nowhere to go but up.

Mack muttered something unintelligible and frowned in his sleep. Grey picked up the hand that was hanging off the bed and tucked it back under the covers, but Mack flung them off and settled back into position, mouth open and breathing noisily. He ran a furred tongue over cracked lips.

"You want some water, Mack?" Grey bent towards him, a small plastic bottle in his hand. He held Mack's head up a little while the cool liquid flowed into his mouth. Mack choked and Charlie at once took the bottle away and laid his head back down.

"Oh, God..." Mack slurred. "I won't do that again". His throat felt raw, someone was swinging a sledgehammer in his head, and his whole body ached.

Charlie intervened. "Relax, Mack, I'll protect you". The two men settled back into a silence broken only by the hum of the air heater.

"I'm sorry... I didn't... Sorry, mate..." It was so quiet Charlie nearly missed it.

Charlie clapped him twice on the arm. "Shssss... It's OK. Go back to sleep. You need to rest."

"Shit. I'm sorry, Charlie..." Mack whispered before going silent.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 11

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

During the last two days, Grey and Mack didn't see much of each other. After bringing back the next day to the cabin Mack's father truck and some supplies and making a couple of photographs with their cell phones, just in case they needed to play some cover trick in the future, they returned non-stop back to Fort Griffith. As soon as they got in into their apartment, Grey had holed himself up in his room, only exiting for a quick visit to the bathroom or to the fridge. Mack had been busy on his own too.

On the third day, Mack left early after agreeing they will meet at the TOC to report together for duty, as was already discussed in their way back, and see what was in store for them in there for real. Grey had not cared to contact Jonas or Bob in the meantime, that Mack knew for sure, and that was not a good sign.

"A salute is about respect. Respect for yourself, the service and the country." Mack heard the old logistics sergeant saying to the young aid with a half-smile and a soft chuckle at his arrival at the TOC. "Don't you think a first sergeant like me does deserve it, soldier? You just reserve it to the high brass?"

He looked up at one of the boards presiding their rest room "The mud goes OFF, the pain goes AWAY, the pride stays FOREVER".

There were times like this when Mack felt exactly like Grey had said to him that sometimes he was needing the feeling of his pressed uniform protecting him, empowering him, talking in favour of him without need of words on times where he needed some reassurance. Not very often, but on some painful occasions, like Hector's funeral, it gave him a badly needed comfort and the renewing reminder of his original bond and commitment with the Army and the Unit, a sense of purpose embodied in something physical to cling onto, a meaning to Hector's dead and someday his own, something he could see and touch, something real.

For Grey, like a two way mirror, his uniform worked as well as a warning sign for those around him, those that needed to be reminded from time to time that he had earned his strips the hard way during the last 14 years, that he still was on the ranks, on active duty. That his person was not just laughing matter over a beer, but he deserved a much earned respect, both personally and professionally, from his mates at least, the only ones to know a truth the rest of the world will never be aware of.

It was a problem Mack never encountered himself; with or without uniform, he exuded a Ranger. The mixed ethnicity of Grey, his scruffy looks, had always been an extra asset for Alpha Team, allowing him to easily metamorphose and blend in unnoticed in almost any community. But to maintain that quality alive was a mixed blessing in Fort Griffith, as it inspired almost instantly certain nervousness when he was around. Rarely was Grey included in any base circle when any other of his team mates wasn't present.

Mack himself had tried several times to raise the subject with other operatives of the Unit but couldn't make head or tails why it was that uneasiness in front Grey's presence, so in the end he had to concede it was just a case of likes. Maybe he was too small, too mean looking, too... different.

With Ryan it was even more acute. It seemed that the pressure of the Colonel never got to Grey. Although Grey had tried the first two years to establish some kind of a better link with him, just three years ago the situation changed 180º and clearly it was Grey who was displaying an intense dislike for the man. He never faltered him his due respect but his body language whenever Ryan was around was icy cold. Mack didn't miss the forced hand shake Grey exchanged with Ryan at their arrival to Fort Griffith when they were finally reinstated by the CIA to their former ranks and posts and how both men hardly looked at each other during that fleeting moment.

Most people around the TOC considered Grey a doer not a thinker, but the truth was that he spoke more than 8 languages quite proficiently, knew probable more than anyone else in the Unit about explosives and biochemicals, of mechanics and all sort of technical stuff and, aside his medical training and battlefield experience, he was always updated about politics all around the world aside. Charlie was always the one of the craziest, most creative solutions to any given problem. Planning ahead at medium-long term was not one of his strongest points though. He didn't have the capability to design different horizons, always living in the most immediate present. Right like now. Why in hell he had not foreseen he could bump into Ritchie just then of all times and avoided that most than inconvenient encounter was, and will remain, a mystery as big as Grey himself.

When Mack was approaching the units' common rest room was immediately aware of Ritchie herding Charlie into a fight.

"It was so pitiful hear you wheezing like an old bag,.. How does it feel losing control of yourself? You didn't seem to understand much of it some time ago?" Grey pierced Ritchie with his stare, his face muscles twitching with the effort of not letting go his anger wild. "But you enjoyed dragging out your rehab, all that free time from training gave you some interesting insight on civil life and entertainment, didn't it?" Ritchie struck Grey's chest with the tip of his fingers so hard and violently that almost got Grey engaged, but not yet. "Have you told Mack already about the back counter business at the Capri's Isle?"

"Don't you dare, you son of a---!"

"Grey!" Mack called hurryingly approaching him from the rest room door.

Grey stepped back in order to enlarge the physical gap between the two, dodging Mack's hand ready to take a grip on him. Suddenly, he flashed through Ritchie again, and he saw that look, a mix of hate and triumph that dated from the time of Ritchie's withdrawal, the look that told him that Ritchie had not forgotten nor forgiven him yet for those hard days they shared, that he had been behind it all in Tijuana and wouldn't stop just then and, in a flash, Grey charged like a bull against him, overpowering Ritchie's huge figure with all his unbottled rage. Both men rolled over the floor, searching on each other a weakness that would give any of them the upper hand. Grey whispered to Ritchie, "Son of a bitch! You son of a bitch!! How could you?!"

"You've gotta let go, Carlito..!! Let go!!!" Mack cried out at him.

"Because I choose to expose the piece of shit you are? You're damaged goods, Grey!" Ritchie spitted back at him for all the rapidly gathering few around to hear. "You've no right to be here!!!" They rolled again, both their arms and legs entangled in a tour of force. "Tell Mack yourself!!! You shit!!! Tell Mack how many times you visited the back side of the privates of the Capri and why!!" Grey unleashed his left arm against Ritchie's face but that didn't shut him off. "Tell him why Colonel Ry--!!!" A rush of adrenaline sent Grey for Ritchie's neck, to choke his words before Mack could really hear too much and understand.

"No!!! Just don't!!! Carlito, DON'T!!!" Mack hurled towards Grey and kicked him hard where he knew it will hurt him more, the spot around his wound on his right side still so tender. He had seen Grey in action before and he knew quite well he was like a bulldog, never giving up on a fight.

Grey yelled in agony and let go, totally losing control of his will and muscles, curling up around himself in a vain intent to protect that spot. Ritchie, astonished about Mack defending him, backed off and rose on wobbly legs to steady himself against the nearest wall.

Some non-written code within the Unit said members of the same team could do whatever among themselves without others having the right to interfere. But it was something unexpected that it happened in mixed company. Sure, it was not common but has been known that members of a team had roughed one of them up after the "hot wash" of the post-mortem of a mission. Everybody deserved a second opportunity and it was not necessary to go official if they could solve the matter in the inside; but in their trade, everybody deserved going crazy in a certain moment in time and being protected in his weakness too.

The fact that Mack had acted so harshly to save Grey, not himself, didn't cross Ritchie's mind just then, so sure he was that Mack had taken advantage of the moment to vent his anger on Grey too for all the trouble Grey had brought up to the team. As far as he knew, even the Colonel should have known something was going awry with Grey as Ritchie himself catch quite by chance a glimpse of them both discussing with husky low voices precisely of all places at the back door of Capri a few weeks ago.

"Everybody out!" Mack yelled before approaching Grey and quickly positioned himself by Grey's side for the benefit of all to see. What he had feared in that split second was Grey's reaction to it, as he was the more prone than anyone else there to have misinterpreted him intervening in such a brutal way.

"Come on, mate. Let go." Mack took Charlie under the armpits and dragged him upright from behind to avoid his stare. All of Grey's muscles were so tense that he had difficulty in finding a soft spot where to grab him to help him stand. Grey curled up over himself again, groaning in ragged shallow breathings, falling ahead. Mack had been barely able to take hold of him before he was hitting the floor head on. "Let go, let go... Let me help. Three, two, one! Up!" Then it was Ritchie approaching.

"What now, Grey? You better watch what you do next." Mack let Grey slip to the cushioned floor of the training corner, and went for Ritchie ready to take on a fight with him himself.

"Come for another go? Because I'm ready for you!"

"Who are you with, Mack?" Ritchie was genuinely surprised of Mack's reaction.

"It seems you have some I should know? Say so. Now. To me." Mack asked him defiantly.

"It's not my place to say... That's up to him." Ritchie said.

"Grey has always led by example: never giving up, never backing off and never losing at any cost. What do you have that tops that?" Mack said more for Grey's benefit wheezing hoarsely with pain behind him than to follow any argument with Ritchie. "So, some more I should know?" Mack really wished Ritchie would make a pass on him, the bastard. "You've some to say, say so."

"I'm saying: watch your team's back and good luck! That's all I have to say to you." Ritchie said defiantly before turning his back on them and leaving.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 12

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

**Note:** This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.

* * *

Leaning on the door frame, Mack was silently staring at Grey curled up in one of the beds of the regiment bedrooms. The room was quite Spartan and its limited dimensions made it look even colder. He stepped in closer and bent over him. Without saying anything, just crossing his look with Grey's pain filled eyes, he put his left hand on Grey's left shoulder and his right on his knees; then tightly pressed them apart, but he couldn't.

"Work with me. Try to relax your muscles first. Come on. Your legs first. I can't help you to a hot shower like this." But Grey's legs wouldn't move.

Eyeing Grey's body gravely, Mack sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand under Charlie's shirt and over his side wound; his skin was very hot under his touch, so he lifted the shirt and saw all the surrounding spot of an angry red because of the kick. Grey didn't even stir. His eyes were closed and he shielded them again under one of his arms. The dark circles under his eyes looked almost black against his skin.

"How bad is it?" Mack asked softly.

Charles sucked in a breath and for a few seconds it was the only sign that he had heard him at all.

"It hurts much," he rasped after a bit.

"It must hurt you like a mother. You're an immense cramp all of you. Your muscles are locked. And we don't have any muscles relaxants in here..." Mack ventured.

Charles managed an agonizingly slow shake of his head and went still again.

"Mack, I'm not having it against you... Now I just want this stabbing pain to stop." he breathed.

"Maybe it's time to try and see a doctor. We don't have anything real heavy for the pain in here either, except a couple of Tylenols, but that won't help much." Mack muttered while impulsively leaning in and grabbing and kneading his left calf, his thumb working into the muscle in an effort to loosen it.

Grey frowned and lifted the arm that covered his eyes a couple of inches to glare at him through blood-shot eyes.

"I don't need a doctor, and we cannot leave like this right now either."

"Look at you, man. Now you really look like road kill."

"Thanks," Grey said, rolling his eyes. Then sighed and covered them again, trying to block light, sound, and reality.

"I know you hate doctors."

"Just like you. They always manage to make you feel worse somehow," he warned.

"I'll bring some ice for your side and then we'll massage loose those big knots one by one. Let me take some care of you."

"Just make sure not to bring anybody else along". All the people that could poke and prod him, that could be aware of his pain and weakness and could get to him despite himself were a big no for Grey. Just Hector and now Mack had he allowed sharing those willingly when he had been in pain.

When Mack came back, he was silent and not in a calm, comfortable way. Determined to block out the world as effectively as he could, he had begun to close off.

"See? Now you look like your dog died instead." Mack sat by his side and let the silence take place for a while before clearing his throat. "You okay?"

"Nope."

"I know what it is. Been there myself. You feel physically and mentally wasted. You feel like you've been striving those last months just to barely keep your head above the water. That you're not keeping your usual level of proficiency on anything you do. But let me tell you something: you are not wasted, and you're not doing that bad. It's just an illusion of your mind to have an excuse to quit. "

"Truth is I shouldn't be here right now."

"And, what are you gonna do then? Go fishing? Open your eyes. I'm not damn shrink, but I take it it's all about grieving on Hector and grieving on Annie and all that flesh those fucking bullets tore apart and that do need a lot more time to heal than the one Ryan gave you before sending you after Díaz or the one you've given yourself afterwards..." He knew Grey was listening as Grey's breathing did accelerate somehow to a syncopated rhythm.

"I... don't know... what to do... anymore..." managed Grey with a ragged voice, his face still covered by his arm, red nosed, chin slightly trembling.

"I do. Just follow through. Don't think. I'll tell you when to worry. And don't be so damn hard on yourself. Work knowing you're not 100% but you will be, that would do. And, above all, let the past in the past, where it belongs, once and for all, for both of them." Mack tapped him lightly on his back "Chin up, look up front, and go ahead. Hey, the army has no sympathy or understanding, just wants the job done."

"There is more to it---"

"Taxpayers have invested more than 1 million dollars in your training for you to be in one of the finest SF of the whole world and you're just about to fail them now, bro? Because of a hothead of a bouncer is trying to make you pay for his cold-turkey days, the bastard? I know what you did for Ritchie back from Afghanistan. Jonas told me. You never mentioned it."

"That's between Ritchie and me. No one else." Grey cut him short.

"See what I mean? That's the man you're... Like you don't know or will ever remember how Tiffy got the money she needed for the new home caution just in time through some short dude who paid a shorter dude to tip her like a sheikh from Dubai for some private dancing for days? Same guy that is suspect now of having gone rough because he did what he did to pass that money to someone in need in a discreet and anonymous way? The chowderhead didn't think on the possibility of surveillance cameras though. I know the Llama too. I saw the tapes on the back alley they have about you. I recognized him instantly and I'm shocked nobody else did. The Llama owes me a few and I used him in the past to keep an eye on Tiffy too, to make sure she is OK at the end of the night. He told me what you did while I was on deployment."

Grey swallowed hard and shook his head slightly. "It shouldn't have happened like that," he said dejectedly.

"What shouldn't have happened is what you did before, out there, parading yourself like a wild bullet in front of everyone to see, that's the last thing I ever expected from you. It was the most stupid thing you had ever done. It's not about you, or your career, it's your honor you put at stake, and did it for nothing because I don't give a rat's ass about Ritchie or whatever he has to say. I care about you." Grey's increasingly dry, broken breathing got through Mack almost overwhelming his own sense of control and he softened his tone. "Carlito: you ain't alone. You never were. It might seem like that at times, but you're never alone." Mack gave a gentle squeeze to Grey's leg.

"I should---"

"Halt. I know Tiffy better than I know myself. Don't worry, I know she did things I'd never approve of at the Capri. She is a trouble magnet. But in the end it's all my fault. It's my family and I failed them in so many different ways than now all I've left to do is quit whining, suck it up and drive on." Mack's quivering voice quieted and faded into silence.

"Mack, I..." Grey huffed painfully, knowing he had now the opportunity to tell Mack that he had orchestrated passing the money necessary for Tiffy through the Llama to block the Colonel's move to approach her again in such a vulnerable state as much as for her not leaving for Texas with the girls. Carlito knew from a long time, he saw a few looks the Colonel had addressed to Tiffy some of the times their paths crossed during the last years with his. That told him there was a seed for something going on and he intervened too to kill that sprout to growth further.

"Halt. Just listen. I think I know you some too after all these years. You've heard that only drunks and children tell the truth..? And haven't I made you the keeper of the life of my kids and my wife while I was completely pissed off, several times as I recall? Haven't I entrusted you all I've got and care in this world? It's me asking you: Is there more to it for you?" Is it?"

"No."

"End of the story. Now try to relax some and help me work through those cramped muscles of yours. As soon as we can get you under some hot water at the shower you'll feel much better and we could go."

"Where? To do what?"

"What? Are you in charge now? You've done your part. Give me some credit and let me do mine. The team is waiting for us at the compound. No moonshine this time. We'll sort this out. And nail this down into that restless head of yours: you do come as part of the team not as the problem of the team. Understood? If we do have to step out this train, we do step out together. We'll see what's on the Tijuana's tape and see what the next actions should be." Mack straightened up from Grey's side, his face and body language conveying his uttermost respect infront the bright piercing eyes of his mate.

"I thank you, Sergeant Grey. For being there for my family when I couldn't. For being real family to me." Mack said his voice breaking up slightly at this but quickly imprinted with a new shade of reassurance. "Whatever you did, I thank you for; no doubt in my mind now or never that you did what you did for the welfare of my family." Grey uncovered totally for the first time his bulgy red eyes, exposing all his raw misery to Mack and gave him a stiff nod. "Come on, bro. We have much work to do and Jonas and Bob are waiting for us at the compound to help us make heads or tails of this. You just hang on tight a while more. We're almost there."

"I am OK now." Grey half-whispered, half-croaked.

"You are. You don't know yet. But you are."

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**Title**: Home Rule - Chapter 13

**Author**: roomtable202

**Fandom**: The Unit

**Disclaimer**: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

* * *

"Yaalah halan!! Yaalah halan!!" Mack shouted at the top of his lungs. A bundle of clothing stirred on the next space of the plane's bunk and from it there materialized the compact frame of Charles Grey who swung his bare feet to the cold metal floor rubbing his eyes awake with the corner of his grimy black-and-brown chequered arab headcloth. "Ya Allah," he exclaimed in alarm and jumped to attention. He was all of five six feet, his nose red and the impression of wrinkles from his improvised covers fresh on his face. He did not make a very imposing figure at that moment.

"Hey! You better talk sweet to me..." Bob said.

"You've spent too much time undercover on that Baghdad station, pal." Dauber retorted.

The laughs of his Alpha and Bravo teammates filled the plane cabin at Charlie's total loss of reference at that precise moment, whatever he tried to convince them of later.

"Man, I will never get it how you can surrender to sleep with that horrible sound and all this bumping and thrashing. You didn't even change position when we were flying through that storm." Bob went on.

"If you wanna see the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain... "

"Really, man! How do you do it? Bob insisted.

"It's because my soul is lily-white, whiter than my snowy linens."

"You wouldn't really blow your nose into them? I saw how you used your nice shawl just now" Beau Dauber just said breaken out a smile on his stonelike face.

"You just crossed the line, brother. My house is my temple and my linens my banner. How much longer till we land?" Charlie managed while staggering from a sudden air turbulence.

"25"

"Huh, that much ... What?"

"You sure you've got everything ready for Lissy's party fireworks? We won't have much time left here." Mack stepped in.

"Sure thing. Got it all ready and packed two months ago. Lots of colored lights, smoke and noise. The kids are gonna love it."

"I always knew you had a thing for fireworks." Jonas intervened while rubbing his eyes with a sigh.

"I still can't believe we made it in time. I thought we'd get delayed in Frankfurt, ... again..." Mack said.

"Do your missus know we're coming? Will there be some adequate food for us in-between the marshmallows?" Carlito continued.

"We haven't told them, but I'm sure the girls know. But we can always make a pit stop at McGreedy's and eat a couple of hamburgers on our way." Jonas intervened.

"Agreed by popular demand", Ritchie said attiring Charlie's attention.

Still standing in the middle of the passage way of the plane, where he had ended up after being so rudely awakened by Mack, Charlie knew he shouldn't turn away from Ritchie's gaze but couldn't help himself; moving his eyes to look straight ahead, numb, seeing nothing apart from a lone stain upon the gray fuselage wall.

Three months had passed by since Grey had seen Ritchie or any other member of Bravo. Both teams had been deployed on short notice to work on the same mission but at different locations. In the end, both teams had ended at the rendezvous point to get exfiled together and nobody was hurt, so the general mood was quite relaxed and light.

"What's spinning around in that busy head of yours, Carlito." Jonas asked him but Grey continued to stare ahead, not feeling the need to answer, his chequered headcloth a tightly pressed ball between his hands. Finally, Charlie pulled his focus from the wall and looked intently at Jonas' eyes directly. Jonas was shocked by the lack of life in his previously bright eyes. The next moment Carlito was looking in an arc at his Bravo and Alpha brothers in arms, all tension apparently gone from his face and ready to have a go at them again.

"You all better pull your socks up, boys! Last to leave the compound pays!" Carlito said cheerfully.

Charlie slid down the wall, curling into the shadowy corner with his socks and shoes in his hands. After putting them on, he raised a weary hand to his face and rubbed it tiredly. He exhaled. Three months down the drain for nothing. It was not over with Ritchie, he realized then he hadn't get over it at all yet and probably never would. Images of the team's gathering at the compound the day of his final incident with Ritchie three months ago were replaying in his head.

_"A high dose of brotherhood smoothes over any embarrassment and pain", but Grey wasn't feeling then what Jonas was saying and he couldn't see it yet, Jonas saw it in his eyes. "You're close to walk off the edge of the earth. You better get back on track today for real if you want to stay in the team."_

_"Don't give me that crap now, Top." Charles let out an impatience sigh._

_"And you don't bitch and moan to me, boy. Not in the mood. Suck it up. It's showtime. Let's rock and roll."_

_Over the years, he accumulated a multitude of scars. Physical scars became nothing but a reminder of past battles won or lost, some of them mementos of a hard childhood. But one scar stood out. This scar bore significant meaning to him. Grey's hand gently pressed at his own ribs, feeling the bulging scar where the chest tube had been, an ever present reminder of Hector's relentless fight to save his life; of their collective sacrifice for him. Remembering the pain of that morning's encounter with Ritchie had reignited the still angry nerves at the site of the injury, tightening his chest and causing a bout of coughing which only escalated into more pain, more memories. It was bad enough to have Jonas lecturing him to add to that the humiliation and the fear of breaking down in front of him. Somehow he found the strength to control himself better and uttered a quiet "Sorry, Top. Let's go" before going to their encounter with Mack and Bob already waiting for them close to the distill's still pot._

_That was it, the light at the end of the tunnel. And although Charlie couldn't see a way out when he first got to the compound under the tight scrutiny of Mack's eyes, the team, his brothers, had found it for him, he knew._

_Top's words of wisdom had an answer for him when he'd addressed to Grey in the team's private get together: "One man who sinned all his life and did one day of good in his entire life, vs. a man who did good all his life, and sinned one day, both had to leave town." And that had been final for him. He got the message loud and clear. He didn't want his career, all his life and affections ended, neither did he want that for Ritchie or his family. Not after both had fought such a hard battle for him to prevail against that silent but lethal enemy that was an addiction._

_"There is no situation that one can't turn to his advantage. So, boys... What's the status as of now, Bob?" Jonas spoke for all four before him._

_"Every trace in Mexico has been removed. I made sure of that and re-checked just yesterday internally. All clear on that front."_

_"Mack?"_

_"When Ritchie confronted Charles today, he didn't seem very prone to back off."_

_"Did you see his pupils?"_

_"Seemed normal. I don't know."_

_"Carlito, I know what happened with Ritchie and Mack. There is something I need to know right now: are you holding it against Mack in any way? I take it he hurt you badly."_

_"No, Top. I understand what he did and why. Mack just looked over me better than could do it myself. I trust him."_

_"So, how are you feeling? The truth."_

_"It's OK. I'm OK with it."_

_"Look. This is a very small space. We almost bump into each other when we move, everything can be overheard. All of us are on edge. But let's make the best of it now that we have the time. Do you trust me?"_

_"What?! You know I do... Why do you ask?"_

_"Then, do as I'll tell you now. No questions asked."_

_"What do you want? What are you thinking of doing?"_

_"Beau Dauber: Try to rebuild some trust with him. He tried to help you. Ritchie: God knows we need him in this country. You Ok with all that?"_

_"---"_

_"I said, you Ok with all that, sergeant?"_

_"Yes, sir."_

_"You'll get at my place at 8 pm tonight. Molly won't be in. Beau and Ritchie will come too and we'll straighten things between us. You let me do the talking and you'll just shake hands with Ritchie or kiss him on the mouth or whatever you need to end this when the time comes. After that you'll move on and close that door forever. And that's an order you'll comply with."_

_"Yes, sir. I will."_

_"The video tape Mack and you obtained in Tijuana will stay with me. Now. All of you: out. Go back to your lives and let me live mine." While they were all heading for the exit, Jonas realized that Carlito was not yet as aligned as he would have him . "Carlito, you come with me. Just accept it face value: it's not what you get, it's what you give. I'll keep my eyes on you till this is over, for your good."_

_He knew, had heard here and there, that they all had a reputation for being cold and insensitive, but they had been through so much so often that they couldn't cope any other way. Auto-control, auto-denial, auto-pilot, that was the name of the game, and what kept them alive in their line of work. He knew too about their alleged "law of the pack", but he never practiced anything similar in all his years with the Unit. The law he had followed most diligently were the old adages of "more sweat in training is less blood in combat" and "one for all and all for one". That was why he couldn't come to grips with why Ritchie had thrown him to the wolves without even facing him first after all they had been through together. The only logic Grey could come to was people hurt people for no reason. Carlito could rationalize himself being a non violent man that had and would commit acts of extreme violence for a cause and with Ritchie he'd had a cause, a reason to fight so hard against Ritchie himself to save Ritchie's life and that of Ritchie's family and now he was faced to be asked to feel sorry for that? Well, he felt prepared to fake it if that was what was required to get him and Mack out of the hook for their Tijuana adventure._

Back in the plane, seating in the shadow of that corner, Grey's eyelids drooped. They wanted to stay glued together, keep him in a soothing nothingness. He heard a familiar high pitched whistle and when he opened his eyes saw Bob still with his fingers in his mouth and Mack gesturing to send him a bottle of water. They were aware how thirsty he must have been after so many hours of uninterrupted sleep. Charlie raised his hand with his index finger picturing a circle in their familiar gesture for silently raising camp, took a breath and stood up to sit by his teammates's side.

The Unit had its own independent home rule from the rest of the world after all and one of its laws said: if the gain won't be worth the pain, drop it. The same golden rule that once gave Ritchie a second opportunity and Grey too. Jonas had been right when he told him after that night meeting with Dauber and Ritchie that nothing that passed in the past mattered anymore and all of them should count on a fresh start from that moment on. He wanted to believe it right then and act accordingly, but now, three months later, in that plane he had knew that his real feelings, not those implanted, were not that easy to ignore and were still ricocheting around his head.

Mack seemed to be hearing his silent thoughts and gave him a mocking punch to his arm. He smiled proudly back at him and nodded. Good old Mack having his back again. Bob and Jonas near, watching over him too. It felt good knowing he could say at them anytime: "Cover me, bro. I don't know what else is out there."

The plane hit the tarmac a few minutes later, time enough for Charles to finish his water and feeling all re-energized. Was there anything better in the world than some fresh water when you were thirsty? The best that life could offer him was about to come in the next hours, a couple of juicy hamburguers with a beer and a soccer match with a bunch of hyped up kids... "_Carpe Diem. Memento mori._ Enjoy the day. Remember you'll die", Charles silently worded to himself. " Eat, drink and be merry." In truth, why did anything else had to matter right then?

THE END

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End file.
